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“Everly, Darling,” Loki called as he walked from their bedroom and down the hall to the living room where she was waiting. He had gotten home late - something he was still not pleased about in the least, but he had let it slide from his shoulders easily and quickly enough - and so he was the reason they were still at home and not at the dinner they were going to attend tonight. Everly was all ready and dressed, waiting in the living room when he had returned home. He had smiled and adored her with compliments. She truly looked lovely. And absolutely beautiful. Exquisite brown hair curled, makeup lightly yet perfectly applied, and a pink dress, adorned with two pearl necklaces around her neck, one of small pearls and the other much, much larger ones - both he gotten her. On her feet were fashionable white high heels.
The dress and the shoes... She had to have gotten them recently as he had never seen them before. But good gods. The Norns had truly blessed him. She had been frowning when he came home, worried not only about him but being late to the dinner as well, her friends and family having already sent her a flood of messages and phone calls wondering where they were. He apologized and quickly explained what kept him. Not one part a lie. If he ever had told her one, then it had been years and years ago, once they both realized that, yes, they wanted to be together and that they now were in a relationship. Loki would not dare to utter one lie to her. Not one. It was an odd quality, he knew, to find in one like him, especially him. The God of Lies. The Silvertongue. The only meaning and usage of his well-known name of Silvertongue that she knew, he only used on her - when they kissed, when he gave her pleasures only the gods knew of.
But once explanation and concerns were given and expressed, she gave him a smile, her café noir brown eyes sparkling up at him in happiness and love. Oh, her eyes... and that smile. Soon, he reminded himself. Soon he would ask her for her hand in marriage. Later tonight, in fact. That most definitely put a smile on his face. He seriously could not wait any longer. He was so impatient that he was actually considering saying to Hel with the dinner and proposing right here and now. Coming back to the present, he placed his hand on his right pant pocket as he walked, checking to see if the small ring box was still there. And it was.
“Are you ready to go, Love?” he teased jokingly as he walked into the living room. She slowly turned her head to look at him, having previously been preoccupied by staring out the window. And it seems though he had her attention, her mind was still elsewhere, probably still out beyond the glass of the window, lost far out in the waters of the lake not far from their cabin.
He sighed, and, realizing he had stopped just as he entered the living room, he walked over to her. She turned her head back to stare out the window again, and he pressed up against her, wrapping his arms around her waist. No sooner had he done so had she turned towards him, almost lying her head on his chest. Other than that she made no other sign of regard for him, though she still stared out across at the beautiful sight in front of them, the sun setting behind the far off mountains on the other side of the lake, the last of the sun’s light shimmering off the lake’s surface.
There was only one thing that came to mind. One thing that was theirs beside their love.
“There is a lady sweet and kind,” he murmured into her ear. He could see a small grin form on her face in their reflection in the window. “Was never face so pleas’d my mind; I did but see her passing by...” A seconds pause and then “And yet I love her till I die.”
It was their poem. And he had made sure to memorize it by heart, every little enunciation, every proper pause. So he continued, “Her gesture, motion, and her smiles... Her wit, her voice, my heart beguiles, beguiles my heart, I know not why...” Pause. “And yet I love her till I die.”
He remembers every moment. He made sure to savor and remember every single line, every smile, every laugh. “Her free behavior, winning looks will make a lawyer burn his books.” Oh, and her fiery spirit, hidden so deep and yet just boiling just right on the surface. She gave him life, more so than anything else ever had. The humans liked to call him the God of Fire. Oh, how wrong they had it. She was Goddess of Fire. And gods help him if he, a frost giant, lay an unwanted hand on her, her of so much fire. “I touch’d her not, alas! Not I.” Pause. “And yet I love her till I die.”
He made himself remember every time when she cried, every time she despaired, every time she was miserable and unhappy. Whether it be by his doing or not. (It was quite an even mix.) “Had I her fast betwixt mine arms, judge you that think such sports were harms...” He made sure to make her smile, to make her happy at all costs. Even if it meant never having a crown or throne. He’d rather she always smiled then he have a throne and kingdom. “Were’t any harm? No, no, fie, fie...” Pause. “For I will love her till I die.”
He remembers every effort of hers to help him. She had thought herself so useless, so worthless. And yet here he was. A much better man than he was before. All by her doing, by her perseverance, strength, and will.“Should I remain confined there so long as Phoebus in his sphere...” Despite the fact, he should have been locked up, faraway from anyone, unable to get out by either direct or indirect means... She helped him. She loved him. Even though he had tried to convince her otherwise. That’s honestly all he could ever want, all he ever wants. “I to request, she to deny,” Pause. “Yet would I love her till I die.”
The Norns had given him the best gift he could ever wish for. Her. His bella tesoro. And they had given her to him when he needed her most. (A time when he couldn’t feel a single thing. A time when he let insanity overtake him.) “Cupid is winged and doth range her country so my love doth change...” She was his salvation, his redemption. And he owed her his heart. Always and forever. “But change she earth, or change she sky.” Pause. “Yet will I lover her till I die.” He softly kissed the side of her head, taking in a deep breath of her scent.
She was silent for a moment before replying. “Let us go then, you and I. When the evening is spread out against the sky... let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, the muttering retreats of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels and sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells...”
He listened to her speak, her voice like liquid gold. T.S. Eliot. The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, he recalled. He smirked into her hair, nose and face still against the side of her head, breathing in her scent as much as he could, just for the sake of it being her and because he could. “Yes,” he murmured. He turned his eyes to stare out of the window along with her. “Let us go then, you and I.” A quick kiss against her hair before he added, “Our future awaits us.”